Page 3 of Blame It on the Bikini (Ocean Shores #4)

Chapter Two

Lexie was still in fight mode Saturday morning, but she wasn't fighting with Grayson; she was fighting with her ten-year-old car.

She'd tried several times to start it, hoping the sheer force of her will and her need to get to her job as a wedding photographer would somehow bring it back to life.

But all she got was a click of finality every time she turned the key.

"No, no, no," she groaned, glancing at her watch. It was eight-thirty, and she needed to be at Seaside Cliff Resort at nine a.m. to start shooting the pre-wedding rituals at eleven a.m. "You cannot do this to me today," she told her car. That plea went unanswered, too.

Her battery had to be dead, and no doubt someone in the complex probably had jumper cables, but she didn't have time to hunt that down. She was already late.

Getting out of her car, she pulled up a rideshare app, sighing at the surge pricing. Even though it was early on a Saturday morning, clearly the universe had it in for her today.

She scrolled through her contacts—Kaia, Paige, Emmalyn… Voicemail, voicemail, voicemail. Everyone was probably asleep or already out, which included her aunt, who had gone with Margaret to the farmers' market.

Her phone vibrated with an incoming call, and she hoped it was one of her friends, but it was the bride's mother. She took a deep breath before answering. "Good morning, Mrs. Morrison."

"Lexie! Where are you?" The woman's voice was pitched high with stress. "The makeup artist is already here, and Tiffany is freaking out because one of her bridesmaids is stuck at the airport. I'm afraid Jordan might be getting cold feet because his best man says he was up all night and?—"

"Mrs. Morrison," Lexie cut in with practiced calm, "everything will be fine. I'm on my way right now." A small lie, but a necessary one. "These pre-wedding jitters are completely normal."

"Everyone needs to see you're here so they'll calm down and?—"

"I'll be there very soon. I'm not late. We're scheduled to start at nine. Just take a deep breath. Today will be beautiful."

As she ended the call, she caught sight of movement in her peripheral vision. Grayson Holt was walking toward his car, keys in hand, dressed in what appeared to be workout clothes—expensive ones, naturally. Even in workout clothes, the man couldn't help but exude wealth and privilege.

Before she could decide whether to swallow her pride and ask him for a ride, he glanced over, noticing her standing beside her open car door.

"Good morning," he said. "Is something wrong?"

"My car won't start. Dead battery, I think. Of all the days, it had to happen today."

"Are you heading somewhere important?"

"I'm photographing a wedding at Seaside Cliff Resort." She checked her watch again. "That I'm already late for."

"I can give you a jump if you have cables."

"I know there are some cables in the storage shed, but I don't have time to look, and none of my friends are around. I just need to call for a ride." She glanced down at her app again. "For some reason, the rideshare is very busy this morning."

Grayson hesitated, clearly working his way through an internal debate, then gave a resigned nod. "I can give you a ride. It's not too far from here, is it?"

"About fifteen minutes."

"Then grab your stuff, and let's go."

Relief coursed through her, immediately followed by discomfort at being indebted to him. But she had no choice. She grabbed her equipment and put it in the trunk of his Audi.

"Thank you," she said as she got into the passenger seat, immediately struck by the new-car smell and immaculate interior. It reminded her of her father's succession of luxury vehicles, each one replaced before it showed even a hint of wear. "I appreciate this."

He merely nodded and started the engine, which immediately purred to life. He didn't say anything as he put the resort into his GPS and then proceeded out of the parking lot.

After two minutes, the silence between them grew heavy. She wanted to break it, but she didn't know what to say. She couldn't get into an argument with him about the building while he was doing her a favor, and what else could they possibly discuss?

"So," he finally said, obviously deciding he was tired of the awkward silence, too, "Do you shoot a lot of weddings?"

"More than I would like. Nature and landscape photography is what I really love, but weddings provide a reliable income."

"Quite a departure from corporate law," he commented. "Didn’t you tell me the last time I was here that you went to Georgetown? Weren't you working for your father's very prestigious law firm? It seems like you made quite a leap."

She could hear the implied criticism in his words.

Clearly, he considered her jump a leap down, but that was okay.

He wasn't the first to question her decisions.

"I wanted to be able to work in a field where I could be creative and imaginative.

I'm also no longer working eighty hours a week to make rich people richer.

I call my own shots." She'd barely finished speaking when her phone rang.

The bride this time. "I'm sorry. I have to take this. It's the bride."

"Go ahead."

"Hi, Tiffany! How are you feeling this morning?"

The bride's tearful voice spilled from the phone loud enough for Grayson to hear her.

"Everything's falling apart, Lexie. The florist delivered the wrong centerpieces.

Jordan hasn't texted me back in an hour.

My mom is driving me crazy, and Kathleen is stuck at the airport.

My wedding is turning into a disaster?—"

"Take a deep breath," Lexie interrupted. "It's all going to work out. I'll be there shortly, and we're going to capture every beautiful moment of your day, starting with you getting ready with your bridesmaids. Remember how excited you were about those matching robes?"

"Yes," Tiffany said. "But what about Kathleen?"

"She'll make it. I'm sure Eileen has already sent a car for her," she said, referring to Tiffany's wedding planner, who had at times been happy to abdicate a lot of her responsibilities to Lexie.

But, hopefully, she was working on getting Kathleen to the resort.

If not, she'd deal with that when she arrived.

"Why don't you and the other girls put on your robes and open that bottle of champagne your maid of honor brought?

By the time you've had a glass, I'll be there, and we'll start creating the memories you'll cherish forever. "

"Okay. But hurry. I'll feel better when you're here. You're always so calm, Lexie."

After a few more reassurances, she ended the call and let out a long breath.

"So, you call your own shots, huh?" Grayson asked with amusement in his voice. "It seems to me like you've traded one demanding client base for another, one with a lower retainer and more emotional drama."

As much as she hated to admit it, there was truth in his observation—and it struck uncomfortably close to home. "It's still different," she grumbled.

"How so?"

"I'm creating something meaningful. Something that brings people joy. The photos I take will remind them of the happiest day of their lives."

"But is it the happiest day of your life? And is it worth the pay cut? The stress? Having your weekends commandeered by strangers' emotional crises?"

"Yes," she said firmly, though a tiny voice in her head whispered otherwise. "Not that I expect someone like you to understand."

"Someone like me?" he echoed, shooting her a sharp glance.

"Someone who measures everything by its monetary value. Someone who sees a building full of people's homes and only thinks about profit margins. What he can gain, not what everyone else will lose."

His jaw tightened. "You don't know anything about me or what I value, Lexie."

"I know enough," she said, though a small part of her recognized the unfairness of her assessment.

She barely knew Grayson Holt. But she did know he and his father ran a huge real-estate development company that was worth billions, which made her angry that they couldn't handle having one apartment building in their portfolio that might not be making them a lot of money but was still bringing in some profit.

Her phone rang again, sparing her from further debate. This time, it was the wedding planner, frantic about the timeline and double-checking when Lexie would arrive.

As she fielded another call immediately after—the best man wanting to know if she could get some epic shots of the groomsmen—Grayson remained silent, but she could feel his judgment radiating across the console.

"It's hectic now, but it's all going to work out," she said.

"Are you talking to me or to yourself?" he asked.

"I can feel you judging me."

"It's more that I'm curious why you made such a drastic change in your life. I can't imagine your father was happy about that. Didn't he try to talk you out of leaving?"

"Yes, but I didn't want to be talked out of it.

The truth is that I went into law because of him.

I wanted to be close to him. I wanted us to have something in common.

And he was so proud of me when I became a lawyer and joined his firm.

But the reality of working as an associate in his firm was completely different than what I thought it would be.

I was working eighty hours a week on deals that didn't seem at all important to me.

I lasted almost two years before I quit.

I gave it more than a fair shot, but it wasn't the career for me.

I hoped he'd understand, but he didn't. I shouldn't have been surprised.

His attention always came with strings. Now that I've let him down, he barely speaks to me. "

"Huh. That's…" Grayson's voice trailed off.

"That's what?" she asked curiously.

"Interesting. We actually have something in common, fathers we wanted to connect with through work…and strings."